Pigwallager
by augustepiphany
Summary: Luna was always saying strange things; Hermione had just gotten used to it. She only half-listened to what Luna said, sure if she listened too closely she'd go just as mad as the Ravenclaw.


**A/N: So, I thought it was about time I uploaded some more of my stuff here. I never stopped writing, my ships just moved a bit and I started posting on LJ more. Buuut I figure, I have this account, mayaswell make use of it! So this is one of my new fics. It's Luna/Hermione, one of my all-time favourite pairings, and this story came out of a manip I made. Enjoy, review, and nice to be back here again!**

**Pigwallager**

Luna was always saying strange things; Hermione had just gotten used to it. She only half-listened to what Luna said, sure if she listened too closely she'd go just as mad as the Ravenclaw. Occasionally, however, Hermione would catch herself distracted by the large, unblinking eyes and realise she'd spent the last few minutes listening to Luna telling her about the Blibbering Humdinger. Hermione was always annoyed when she realised this; she had better things to do than sit next to a crazy girl who was two years younger than her and listen to stories about fictional creatures. She never left, though.

Lately Luna had taken to getting Hermione to look over her schoolwork. As if she needed any _more _work to do; Harry and Ron apparently never proofread their own work, which meant Hermione was staying up until past midnight to make sure their work was good enough to be handed in. But Luna? Hermione knew she was more than capable of doing her own proofreading, and she never let Hermione take out references to the bizarre creatures that lived solely in Luna's imagination.

Hermione didn't know why she even bothered to go to their meetings in the library, but she never missed them.

Early December had its usual effect on the castle's inhabitants; students were louder, getting ready for the Christmas holidays, and Filch was shrieking at anyone who dared to traipse sludge into the castle. It started snowing shortly before classes ended, and the castle's temperature somehow dropped even further. The library was by far the warmest place to be, and it was where Hermione and Luna were sitting on a windy evening.

The lamps flickered on around them, but neither girl paid them any attention; Hermione simply drew the parchment closer to read it better in the dimmed light. Beside her, Luna was talking about something called a Pigwallager.

"Daddy says they're turquoise, but recent studies show they're more likely to be a pastel pink, to blend in with the pigs. Daddy doesn't believe them, but it makes more sense if they're pink – even Muggles would notice a turquoise pig!"

Her hands were waving around excitedly, as they had a habit of doing when she was telling Hermione about something. Her fingers brushed Hermione's bare wrist; it sent a swift shiver up her arm but it was probably from the sudden touch of warmth against her own cold skin. Hermione didn't look up from the parchment, but nodded her head.

"That does seem more likely," she said absently, not really listening to what Luna was saying, her attention more focussed on Luna's Potions homework. "Luna, you've written that agapanthus stems are used in an Ageing Potion, but I don't think they are. Are you confusing them with yerba mate?"

"No," said Luna brightly, and continued as though Hermione hadn't changed the topic briefly. "They don't have a sense of smell, either, isn't that fascinating? Quite lucky for them, really, living with all those pigs. Do you think pigs have a sense of smell? I suppose they must, they enjoy eating and taste and smell are linked to one another – what are you doing?"

"Correcting your passage on the proper brewing." Hermione was getting vaguely irritated by the talk of pigs and insistence that nothing in Luna's essay was wrong. If she was so sure it was all fine, why did she drag Hermione off to the library? She frowned and brushed some hair off her face with the hand that wasn't holding her quill. "There isn't anything in the textbook about dancing around the cauldron."

"Oh, no," said Luna cheerfully, and Hermione couldn't but glance at her. "I added that myself. Makes it more fun."

Hermione smiled reluctantly; Luna was so different to anyone else Hermione knew. Parvati and Lavender were nice but could be very superficial; Ginny was prone to clamming up whenever a subject that wasn't boys was broached. As for Harry and Ron themselves … Hermione couldn't even think about how Luna differed from them. She was so gentle and, despite her need for a mental institution, more intelligent than both of them put together. She always looked nice, but not in a way like the other girls; no charms, no product … just pure, natural Luna. Hair that made Hermione marvel at the length and gave her an insane urge to touch it; large silvery-grey eyes that seemed to _know _Hermione without her saying a thing.

It was that gaze that was settled on Hermione now as she smiled at Luna; it made her blush, though she wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was the sudden feeling of vulnerability that forced her eyes from Luna's and back to the parchment. The stare made Hermione feel like she was being read like a book, and she wasn't sure if she liked it. She never let her guard down – how could you when your best friends were boys? – and here Luna was, gently moving around the barrier and then through it, all calm and peaceful and beautiful.

_Beautiful? More like completely insane._

"Right. But I think you should take it out. I don't think Professor Slughorn will be too happy for you to be dancing around your cauldron."

She could sense Luna's eyes on her, and her cheeks burned at the scrutiny. She suddenly wished she'd brushed her hair more thoroughly, or spent more time on the rough ponytail she'd put it into. Maybe she should be wearing make up to hide the tiny blemishes that now felt like a pizza with some eyes, a nose and a mouth.

"Professor Slughorn likes me," said Luna softly, and it was with effort that Hermione kept her eyes in front of her.

She had a sudden, desperate desire to look across at Luna but knew she'd be dragged straight back into those eyes. She had work to finish so she could go back to the common room, she couldn't be here all night. Luna's voice suddenly cut through her thoughts, though Hermione's resolve held strong and she kept her eyes on the essay.

"Do _you _like me?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, unsure about where this conversation was headed. Hermione didn't like not knowing, and she certainly didn't like not being in control. With Luna, though, Hermione often found herself out of control.

"Of course I like you, we're friends," she said, in a would-be-brisk voice, and moved the parchment up to signify they were continuing with Luna's homework.

Unfortunately Luna seemed to have something else on her mind; her fingers were on Hermione's wrist again, but this time they didn't float away again. They wound around it, sliding slightly to her hand and before Hermione even thought about what was happening, Luna's fingers were entwined with hers.

She stared at their hands; Luna's pale, long fingers between her own tanned ones. Then she looked up at Luna, confusion written on her face. She expected to see Luna smiling brightly at her, ready to say something like "I like having friends". What Hermione did not expect was Luna's half-closed eyes and a slight, knowing smile on her lips. And suddenly Hermione was looking at Luna's lips; they looked so soft, and for split second Hermione wondered what they tasted like.

"I like you more than a friend," said Luna softly, and Hermione's gaze jumped back to her eyes.

"I – you – what?"

Hermione was baffled and terrified at the same time. She didn't understand what Luna was saying, what she meant. What other way could there be? Was Luna telling Hermione she was her _best _friend?

"Can I kiss you, Hermione?"

Did best friends kiss each other? If so, Hermione would have to knock before she entered a room Harry and Ron were in.

The insane thought suddenly made Hermione giggle; nervously, true, but it relaxed her ever-so-slightly. Her eyes flitted from Luna's questioning eyes to her slightly-parted lips, and suddenly Hermione realised she was going to let her do it.

She felt her head nodding, and Luna smiled; her other hand brushed Hermione's hair from her eyes and slid gently down her cheek to her neck. Each touch of her fingers made Hermione's skin shiver and ache. It was only now that Hermione realised how close their chairs were, as Luna leaned toward her, eyes still locked on Hermione's.

Inches from her, Luna hesitated. Perhaps she saw the fear in Hermione's eyes, or she just knew this was new for her, that she'd never kissed or wanted to kiss a girl before. She might know that this was out of her control and that scared her to death. Either way, she was right, and Hermione saw that knowledge in Luna's eyes.

A quick squeeze of her hand was all it took; the pressure of their fingers wound together gave Hermione all the courage she needed to let go of her fears. She let her eyes fall closed, and a second later soft lips were pressing against hers. Nerves sprang to life in her own, sparkling and shivering, and she kissed back, raising her hand to push into the dirty blonde hair, gently pulling Luna closer.

Hermione could not have said how long the kiss lasted, but for her it had no time. She never wanted it to end, and when Luna pulled away it was all she could do not to immediately lean in and capture her lips once more, the faint taste of strawberries and cream lingering in Hermione's mind. Her face was warm, but this time it was a pleasant, strangely tender feeling. She felt a smile spread across her face, and eventually she opened her eyes.

Luna was smiling warily, and when she saw that Hermione was pleased with what had transpired she leaned forward swiftly and kissed Hermione lightly on the tip of her nose.

"Can I please keep the cauldron dance?" she asked, in the innocently charming way only Luna had.

Hermione giggled and squeezed Luna's hand, unable to wipe the smile from her face.

"Only if you tell me more about the Pigwallager."

_fin._


End file.
